


Crow on a Wire

by Hazza1bigD



Category: One Direction (Band), Sweet Creature - Harry Styles (Song)
Genre: 69, Dating, F/M, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Multi, Oral, Paparazzi, Porn with Feelings, Publicist, Sex, boy band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 13,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazza1bigD/pseuds/Hazza1bigD
Summary: You used to work as a low-level assistant for the PR firm who was hired by One Direction. They were just kids then. You were really young, too.You thought you’d seen the last of them...





	1. Chapter 1

P A R T O N E  
“What time is it?” Harry rubs his eyes.   
“Mmm 7:30,” you check your phone and whisper in response. Neither of you are really awake yet, but Harry’s sleepy voice had you drowning in a lazy lust.   
You knew what was coming next. You and him had an agreement. It was just sex. His real girlfriend, Camille, was landing at Heathrow Airport probably right now... as you lay next to her boyfriend. He shifts to look at you more closely. He strokes your cheek with one finger and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt.  
“Don’t worry. I’m leaving.” You tried not to sound upset. You know who you are to him. “You know one day,” you add, you can’t help yourself, “she’s going to notice that you always just happen to change the sheets right before she arrives.”   
“You’re right,” he says, “maybe I should just call her and tell her everything.”  
“You really are so beautiful when you lie,” you bite back, now trying to find your clothes on the floor. That wasn’t the first time he brought up telling Camille.   
“Who says I’m lying now?” his smile goes wide and you nearly faint when his dimples appear.   
“Those green eyes are full of mischief, Harold. You can’t get anything past me. Call me, I guess.” You turn to leave.  
“Wait,” he stops you, “no goodbye kiss?”   
“I’m sure Mademoiselle will be just dying to give you one.”


	2. P A R T   T W O

P A R T T W O   
You first met Harry when you worked for One Direction’s public relations firm.   
You didn’t have any real pull, but the clientele was benefit enough.   
The boys seemed to like you because you were younger than the execs and less punitive.  
When they left the firm, you thought you’d never see them again— in person, that is.  
Until six months ago.   
You worked so hard to get a new job with a company that understood the needs of the artists.   
At one of the first events you worked, Harry was on the guest list.   
You can’t miss Harry Styles no matter the room.   
He glows with confidence and charm.   
He’s charismatic and engaging.   
His stylist dressed him in a black Gucci suit that night. The butterfly on his middle peeking out from a starched white shirt (open as usual).

Just the thought of it begins a twitching between your legs. 

‘Ok, time to check my email,’ you think trying to distract yourself. ‘Check... email. Right ok.’ 

Your assistant, Anthea, wrote you a quick one minutes ago.   
“Camille Rowe is in town. She wants two invites to the charity thing tonight.” 

Your client, an up and coming actor, was hosting a drinks thing at a club you’ve used for a handful of events. It was for a children’s hospital. 

‘Two tickets,’ you think. It’s for Harry. It has to be. ‘Great. Can’t wait.’  
You shoot Anthea an email back to add Camille and her “mystery” guest to the list.   
Even if you don’t want to see them together, you can’t deny the attention having Harry there would add to your event.


	3. P A R T   T H R E E

P A R T T H R E E 

Running these events and making nice with celebrities and their teams was so second nature to you, by three hours in, you nearly forgot that Harry was probably definitely going to show up with to the event run by the woman he’s cheating with on the arm of the woman he’s cheating on. Nearly. 

Your client needs a drink. You can tell. He’s been talking about sick kids for three hours straight. Hell, you need a drink, too. 

You head towards the bar, but your attention quickly turns elsewhere. The step and repeat has gone wild. But no one just comes unannounced— no one famous at least. 

Anthea finds you.   
“Niall Horan is here.”   
“Niall?” you ask. “His people said he couldn’t make it.”   
“His people were wrong.” 

‘Niall. God bless the pants off of you, you beautiful Irishman.’ This couldn’t be better. Niall and Harry in one room. Harry’s people won’t let him address One Direction at all. They can’t ignore this. This event is going to be everywhere. Which is just the kind of break your client needs— or the hospital needs. Right. Charity. Don’t sound too excited.


	4. P A R T  F O U R

P A R T F O U R   
You wait for Niall at the end of the step and repeat, but before he’s finished, Anthea comes running again. She is entirely out of breath.   
“Har- Harry— he’s — he’s”  
“With Camille Rowe?” you know what she’s saying. Harry and Camille used the back entrance to avoid the photographers. Anthea nods.   
“Why aren’t you losing your mind?!” she screams.   
“I need you to grab one of the paps from the line. Use um... Jared. He owes me one. Plant him inside.” Anthea turns to leave.   
“But, Anthea, discreetly.” She nods in response.   
‘Alcohol. A professional amount of alcohol.’ you make yourself laugh on the way to the bar.   
“Vodka.” The bartender turns around. “Top shelf, please.”   
“I thought you were a gin and tonic girl.” You know that Irish brogue anywhere.   
“How could you possibly remember that, Niall?” You turn and smile. Wow, was he always this cute? He’s somehow more— grown than you remember.   
“You only let me take you on that one date.” He responds, laughing. “Oh, sorry. You only let me take you on that one perfectly respectable business meeting.”   
“I did think it was business.”   
“Do you always get drunk at business lunches?”   
“Only for really cute ones.”   
“Thank you.” He leans past you and reaches your drink. His body is so close you can feel a wave of heat. He puts his hand on your waist to balance himself. “I believe this is yours.”   
“Thank you.”   
“You know one of these days you’re going to have to tell me how old Harry got to you first.”   
You shift uncomfortably.   
“And we were having such a good time, Niall.” You pat his chest and take your drink. “Enjoy the party. Maybe call Hailee and tell her you miss her.”


	5. P A R T   F I V E

P A R T F I V E

“Hang on.” You hear Niall call after you. Maybe his fans don’t know yet but you know Hailee and him split last week. You feel a little bad for the neg, but you need him near Harry. (And yeah if he’s near you maybe Harry might feel a little... jealous).   
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up.”  
“I’ll admit it’s a little sweet you’re threatened by him.”   
“I’m not—“  
“Oh no? So it doesn’t bother you he got to me first?”  
“Could I get to you now?” He smirks. This is confusing, is Niall capable of a sexy smirk? You always remembered him as such a goof. You used to sneak snacks to him during meetings to make each other laugh.   
You grab Niall’s arm. Again, weirdly strong. Wasn’t he just a little bit of a thing? He reads your mind.  
“I’m not 16 anymore, you know.” He laughs. That hasn’t changed. You wouldn’t want it to.  
“Same laugh, though.” You try to remark slyly to avoid him knowing how charmed you really are. It’s just the music and the lights and the atmosphere and the —HARRY. Niall’s arm in your hand, Harry spots you. You turn quickly enough for him to not know you’ve spotted him.  
“Niall, I need you to do something for me.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Kiss me. Now. Make it really good.”   
He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn’t hesitate. His hands holding your face he dips his mouth down to meet yours. His lips feel so much different than you expected— warm and nice and surprising. Your breathing starts to hitch, and you can feel a heat rising. Your libido is not your friend. She has betrayed you. You’re kissing Niall Horan. You like it. You feel something pulling at your arm. Not him. Harry.  
“Shit,” you breathe out.   
“I’d have expected a better rating than ‘shit,’ but I didn’t have time to prepare,” another boyish smile on a very mannish frame.  
“Brother,” Harry aggressively puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “A word.”   
“Hey, Harry, I didn’t know you’d be here.”  
“Nor I you,” he responds, in a monotone, staring at you while saying the words and whisking Niall away.  
You turn your back to see where Jared, the paparazzi you planted after Niall’s/Harry’s arrival, has been. You give him a thumbs up and he matches.


	6. P A R T   S I X

P A R T S I X   
You were right. The picture of Harry and Niall at the event went viral. Every celeb news site had it. Tagged all over Instagram. There was only one problem: you were the story.   
Jared got the kiss, too. The gossip blogs went to work and found pictures of you that even you didn’t know existed. Pictures leaving Harry’s. Pictures of you and him close at the party you first met. And even one of you seemingly kissing him, though you know that one to be fake. You never kissed Harry without privacy. You know that because whenever you look at his perfect stupid face you want to taste it. It takes control not to kiss Harry once you’ve started.   
But they also had pictures of you and Niall at lunch all those years ago. They strung together what they could and dubbed you the Yoko of the YOLO Age.   
Somehow, despite not speaking to them at all for years, the fans decided you broke One Direction up. All this in less than a day.  
You’re sitting at your desk, failing to avoid the temptation to check posts you’ve been tagged in— you’re only human. Your cell begins vibrating and though you’ve never saved it, you know Harry’s number.   
You take a deep breath and answer, “Hey you.”   
“Hello, well, you sound better than expected.”   
“Oh, why did something happen?” you breathe out a laugh.   
“You and me, we’re just the same. Making a joke out of it so no one thinks we could be hurt.”   
“Speaking of hurt, how is your croissant? Only in town for a night then? Just enough time to ruin my life and scurry back to the Eiffel Tower she crawled out from under or—”   
“I shouldn’t have gone. I knew you’d be there.” he answered. His voice is so earnest. No matter what he does at the other end of that phone is Harry. Sweet Harry who is willing to apologize for mistakes and make himself better. “I do love her. I shouldn’t lie to her like this.”  
Your brain starts flashing memories. The way some people describe their life flashing before their eyes but more pornographic. His hand around your wrist. The little noises you’d draw out of him. The way you could feel his pulse on his neck in your mouth. That’s it then. Harry’s dumping you.   
Can someone dump you if you were never really together?   
“Harry?” you can barely whisper. “It was fun while it lasted.” You hang up. Let the record show that you did the non-dumping-because-you-can’t-dump-fuckbuddies dump.   
A knock at your office door. It’s Anthea with a bouquet of white daisies. Your favorite.   
“These better be from Jared because my sloppy-ass paid his mortgage for three years with those photos.”   
“There’s a card just there.” She answers pointing to the vase. 

 

Let me try again tonight. No cameras. 

-Niall


	7. P A R T   S E V E N

P A R T S E V E N   
You turn the card over. 

I’ll send a car.

So you caught feelings for a fuck buddy, and that fuck buddy was Harry Styles, and yeah, you made an absolute fool of yourself publicly and potentially lost a bunch of clients. But did you learn? Or did you accept an invitation to dinner with one third of this imaginary love triangle? 

You know the right thing to do. You know that you shouldn’t indulge yourself on the situation. You know...exactly which dress to wear.

‘Less fabric for Satan to burn when I get to Hell for making garbage decisions.’ you think to yourself as you look down to make sure you haven’t spilled out of the dress yet. 

The car stops. Big deep breath. The driver opens your door and leads you in. Niall kept his word. No cameras. 

You don’t recognize where you are, but you can tell it’s a back door. The door opens, and you walk through a dark corridor to a huge open room. The entire ceiling is glass making way for a perfect view of the night sky. The room is empty save for one table. Niall stands when he sees you. 

“Wow. Did you wear that for me?” He sounds surprised, not just by the sight of you but that he said those words aloud. “I mean, I — what I might’ve said was ...did you wear that for me?” You laugh. 

“You look very handsome yourself.” you answer, deflecting as to not admit that you did wear the best dress in your closet. “Is this a planetarium or really, I guess, where am I?” He doesn’t answer. “Niall?”

“Sorry, what? I just— you look incredible.” 

“Ok, but just tell me where I look incredible, please.” You try your best to coolly deflect. 

“Right. This is a planetarium. Well, not this bit. This is their reception hall, I suppose. Come here. I’ll show you.” Niall takes your hand. Which one of your pulses was racing like that? “Just over there is the actual planetarium.” 

“Did you rent an entire hall to have dinner with me? We could have ordered take away.” Your face is burning with the attention you’re getting from Niall. 

“Special girl. Special night.” He shrugs. 

“Thank you. I—“ you look down. You have to admit to yourself that you never felt you were special with Harry. He was special, and you were lucky enough to be in his stratosphere. But Niall—

“Hey, now. I went through all this trouble you’re not going to spend the night looking at your shoes, are you?” Niall gently puts two fingers under your chin to tilt your face up. “Imagine wasting those eyes on the floor.” 

Your eyes?! Has he ever used a mirror?! His blue eyes are so big someone should send a lifeboat to anyone who has to maintain eye contact for more than thirty seconds. 

“Was that kiss really shite?” He’s getting closer to you. 

“Oh, was that you I kissed?” You smile back. 

“We could roll the tape to make sure or —“ his lips meet yours gently, exchanging sweet kisses with you. Your heart races. The kisses turn hungrier. You hold his face with your hands; you don’t want him to stop. You playfully bite his bottom lip, and he growls softly in response. 

You move your hands behind his neck and begin moving your kisses to his jawline. He sharply inhales when you reach his neck. You smile against his skin. 

“So,” he can barely speak his voice is so filled with desire, “you did wear that for me.” You smirk; he laughs weakly.


	8. P A R T    E I G H T

P A R T E I G H T 

“I wanted you for so long.” Niall breathes out; his lips barely leaving yours to form the words. His lips crash down on yours once more, but more fevered, like they’re searching for something. Your stomach tightens at the words. You wouldn’t believe anyone else, but something about Niall... You knew. He wants you. If you didn’t believe him at his word, you begin to feel his need growing hard between you, brushing low on your stomach. Your breath catches. No matter how many guys you’ve been with, just having this effect on them made your body start to tingle. 

You remove your hand from around his neck, and you gently begin rubbing your palm over the bulge hiding in his pants. 

“Fuck,” he removes himself from your lips, mouth agape, head falling back. “We should go.” 

“Oh? Why? Did something come up?” you say teasingly, and on your last two words you apply more pressure to his erection. He jerks in response. His laugh is so deep you can feel your hand vibrate. 

“I’m serious,” He takes your hand off of his growing bulge. He put a sweet kiss on the inside of your hand. “I’ve waited this long. Can’t I take you somewhere proper with a bed?” 

“Somewhere proper and somewhere close please,” you peck his lips between each word. “Please.” You repeat, almost begging. 

He laces your fingers with his and directs you to the door. The same car is waiting. Niall opens the door for you and takes particular care to watch your bum as you climb in. He takes his seat next to you. 

Niall rolls up the partition, smirking. The second the partition is closed, you straddle his lap. You initiate the friction between you; it feels so good. It won’t get you there, but it will get you started. Niall begins biting and sucking at your neck. 

“If this car ride is longer than 15 minutes, I can’t make any promises about any beds, Niall.” You whisper into his ear, biting at his earlobe for good measure. 

“Yeah, well, I promise I’m not done with you until I’ve got you writhing around in my bed.” 

You start rubbing yourself against him faster at his promise. You can feel you’re wet through your panties. A moan escapes his lips. 

The car stops, and the engine turns off.

“Thank God.” You sigh. “I want you so fucking badly, Niall.” 

“Hearing my name come out of your mouth. God. I think that might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”


	9. P A R T    N I N E

P A R T N I N E 

“Niall,” you gently tug on his earlobe with your teeth. He’s trying to get his front door open.

“Niall,” you lean into his neck and suck right above his collarbone. You pause there for a moment to take in his scent. He smells warm. 

“Mmm, Ni—“ you squeak the last part of his name because he has lifted you by the waist over the frame of the open door. He shuts it with his foot behind him. His arms caging you to the wall of his foyer. 

“I’d give you the tour, but you seem to be a little preoccupied,” he teased, closing the space between you. His hands are off the wall and instead trailing gently up and down your thighs. 

“You have a beautiful home.” you mock niceties as your legs feel all melty and soft. “But if you don’t,” you start in on the button on his pants, “bring me to a bed, I will take you right here.” 

His hands trail up under your dress. He puts one finger under the band of your underwear and snaps it gently. “Take these off.” One gesture and puppy dog Niall looks more like a wolf to you. 

You obey and they drop to the floor. You feel exposed even though your dress covers you. It’s the air chilling against your damp desire for him— for this. 

You reach your hand forward searching for some type of control over him. He catches your wrists. 

“No, you played at that in the car. I told you, you will be writhing on my bed.” He guides your hands back to your sides. He takes your right hand and pulls it to his mouth. He licks your middle finger and directs it under your dress. 

“Show me how to make you happy,” he presses your hand against your radiating heat. You hold your breath and still your hand. “Please let me see.” 

You trace your finger around your own wet mess already reaching towards your thighs. You’ve never had an audience before for this particular action, but the heavy feeling in your stomach is familiar. Niall lifts the hem of your dress higher. Even more cold air— even more exposure. He groans at the sight. 

“Fuck,” he sighs and stops your wrist gently. He brings your finger up to his mouth again and sucks at the wet left on it. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and his blue eyes pierce through you. 

You meet his mouth, separated only by your own finger. “Please.” you can barely speak. He knows what you’re asking, somehow. He nods and takes your hand, leading you up a double staircase. 

He leads you to his room. The colors are all earthy and rustic. Wood detailing throughout. ‘One of the most eligible bachelors in the world is trying to fuck you, and you’re musing over his decorating choices?’ He sits you down on the edge of his bed and unstraps your heels. Have you been wearing those this whole time? He takes his own off as well. He sits on the edge near you and straps you onto his lap with ease. You begin unbuttoning his shirt exposing his strong chest and chest hair. God, you really loved chest hair. You got secretly mad when Harry removed his for shows. 

Harry. You haven’t thought about him since Niall’s note. Your whole face must have dropped because Niall puts his hands on your cheeks, the puppy dog reappearing in him, “Hey. Are you ok?” 

Your face didn’t just drop, you were crying; You realize as Niall has begun wiping your tears. 

You slide off his lap. 

“I don’t want you to be a rebound. I feel so special when I’m with you.” You admit to him and yourself pathetically. 

“Do I get a say on whether or not I’m a rebound?” He pulls your face into his chest. His scent filling your nose and giving you a sense of comfort. You nod. 

“Do you know why you feel special with me?” He looks into your eyes, and you shake your head no. “Because you are special. If I’m the only person who makes that known, then fuck them.” He leans his head down, “May I?” You nod, and he kisses you sweetly. Every ounce of kindness, every moment of sweetness, they’re all so genuine with Niall. 

“Besides, I didn’t bother falling in love with the cutest PR assistant when I was 17 to be her rebound 7 years later. That’s a terrible plan.” He laughs and your head can feel the warm vibrations against him. “Can you do something for me though, pet?” 

“Maybe.” 

A devious look takes over his features. The wolf is back. “Say my name, again, for me.”


	10. P A R T     T E N

P A R T T E N 

Can cheeks catch on fire from blushing? More importantly, can vaginas?

“Hmm? I said will you say my name for me again?” Niall repeats swinging you back onto his lap and subsequently, his incredibly stiff arousal. Your eyes get drowsy with lust in response. “Maybe ... I just have to give you a reason to.” He tucks his finger under the strap of your dress and pushes it down your shoulder. “Would you like me to make you say my name, pet?” He kisses along where the strap previously lay on your shoulder. 

You are a puddle. Ice cube in the middle of a blacktop on the hottest day in summer melted. You finish off the buttons on his shirt. Holy shit his biceps are nice. His skin is so warm. His smell is warm. His kiss is warm. Warm Niall. 

You can’t help but give his arm a little squeeze in amazement. He laughs out, explaining “Years of guitar and golf.” 

“And a high protein diet by the looks of it.” You add knowingly. He laughs again.

“I’m trying to get you in the mood, here.” he whispers, in an attempt to get your attention back.

“This guy is doing a pretty good job of that over here. You should be taking notes from him.” You slap his arm muscle, lean down and kiss where your hand landed. Little kisses up his arm, and when you reach his shoulder, a bite to indicate you aren’t too distracted to be ‘in the mood.’

He sucks in his breath and winces a little. 

You give him the smallest, little, innocent smile in response. 

“Give me that mouth,” he puts your chin in his hands. “God, I could kiss you forever.”

You don’t know how or why, but his warmth, his touch, his words, they all make you feel so entirely free. Comforted but not bored. Sexy but not dirty. 

“But, sweetheart, I’m afraid I can’t.” You must have looked very surprised. He chuckles. “Because if I did that, I couldn’t do what I really want to do so fucking badly which is see you cum.” Your body is electroshocked with lust. 

“Oh yeah?” You try so hard to keep it together, but you know your shaking breath is giving it away. No one has said those words in that way before. And no one who ever talked dirty to you before was mean-everything-he-says Niall Horan. 

“Seeing your face, hearing your noises, I want to taste you cum. I want to get a fucking degree in it.” 

“Always happy to support education.” You joke weakly. You are going to drown in your own vagina. Is that possible? He said two sentences to you; get it together. 

He flips you on your back and pulls your legs toward the edge of the bed. He lifts your dress and drags his fingers down and around your thighs. He locks eyes with you and gently bites at your inner thigh. “Don’t think I forgot about hearing my name from that beautiful mouth.” You hold your breath until you feel his tongue on the most expectant area of your body. It sounds so wet, so full of want. It sounds like sin. You have a body of nerves and skin and sense, but all you can feel is his mouth on your most well-kept secret. He pauses and pushes his finger into you and begins working it in and out. His tongue back, working in unison. 

Your breath is wild. You don’t even recognize the noises you’re making. “Oh, fuck, Niall.”

He takes his mouth off, “I’ve never tasted anything so good.” He kisses your inner thigh and picks up the pace of his fingers. 

“Oh, I’m close,” you can barely speak, someone might even consider that a whimper. 

“Cum for me. Please. I want to feel it.” He means it. He eagerly sucks at the bundle of nerves already sensitive from all this attention. 

“Niall, I’m —“ before you can finish speaking your body tenses in all the best ways, convulsing on Niall’s hand and tongue. He waits anxiously at your alter to worship anything you can offer him. He laps away at your center until your breathing readjusts. 

“Fuck, Niall.” You run your fingers through his hair and lift his head to kiss him. You exhaustedly reach for his erection. He stops your hand. 

“I’m not done with you yet. Watching you cum, it’s better than any fireworks I’ve seen.” 

“Happy 4th of July.” You try to reach down his pants again.

“I have wanted to do that for you for so many years. You’re not leaving until I’ve made an absolute mess of you.” 

“Niall.” 

“Hmm?” 

You turn shy. Hiding your crimson cheeks under a nearby pillow.

“You just came in my mouth; they’ll be no need for you to blush. What is it?”

Why was it so easy for him to say, and you’re hiding like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

Finally, you respond quietly but with impatience, “I need you to put your cock in my mouth, Niall.”


	11. P A R T   E L E V E N

P A R T E L E V E N 

“Ok. I’ve changed my mind. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” His grin widens. “Why does that make you embarrassed though? Why are you blushing?” he begins tickling you “Is it because you’re a dirty, naughty little—“

“Niall!” You stop his hands. You take his pointer and middle finger and lick up one side before taking the length of them in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingertips all while inside your mouth. His attention is entirely yours. You take his fingers out just enough to understandably speak. “You’re overdressed.” He stares, struck dumb by your mouth. 

“Huh?” You have never seen such a goofy smile. 

“Your pants, Niall. Take them off.”

“Whatever you say.” He makes quick work of his pants and boxers. He puts his hand over his erection— almost out of nervousness, you notice. He’s exposed now. 

“Which one of us was blushing?” You tease coolly— as you bring your fingertips up his body from thigh to shoulder, torturously slow. You do everything to avoid where you know he’s throbbing— where his blood has rushed to begging for attention. You repeat the featherlight touch downwards. His eyes are closed, and his breathing has relaxed. He’s lost in being touched like this. It’s something you haven’t yet seen in him, but you realize what it is. He feels safe.

“I want you to take off my dress,” you whisper in his ear, giving him a little chill. 

You turn around to give him access to your zipper. It’s his turn to be slow. You feel your dress fall to the ground. Your skin is shocked by the air. His fingers trace up your spine. He turns your body into his, feeling his lips meet yours. Skin on skin — you both are searching for as much contact as humanly possible. You can feel how hard he is on your leg, so close to where you need him to be, your white hot want burning a hole between your legs. 

You move your bodies to the bed. He sits and you wrap your legs around him. The same hands that held your face, the hands that snapped at your underwear, the hands that reached up inside you, those hands grab hold and guide him into you.He fills you. When you’re steady again, he reaches around you, presses his palms into your shoulders and sends your body even closer to his. You begin moving on him. Up and down and slightly back and forth. 

“Oh my God,” he groans. His mouth is so close to your ear, his voice tickles you. For the second time tonight, you put your mouth on his shoulder and bite. His reaction is immediate, bucking up against you, meeting your movements. You feel your body reaching, chasing another orgasm. You have lost the control to not follow that chase. 

“That’s it. Please cum for me. I need to feel it.” He’s begging. You press his chest so he is lying flat on the bed, and you shift yourself quickly so you can move faster and harder and as you get closer, sloppier. “That’s it. Keep going.” His hands are everywhere. Your waist, your hips, your chest, but they find their resting place on your clit.

Your eyes close, and the waves return— rougher than before— you can feel the pulses through your body but it feels like high tide. You’re floating, and he doesn’t take his hand off of you until he knows you’ve landed back on earth. It feels wrong to remove him from inside you. You can feel the striking hollow. His forehead is wet with sweat, and his eyes are no longer drowsy with lust. They’re alive and wide with anticipation.

You finally get what you ask for. You take your tongue and mimic how you teased and licked up his fingers. You take the head in your mouth, circling your tongue. 

“I’m not done studying.” He smiles down at you wickedly. He swings your legs up around his head, so he can be face to face with your shamefully wet core. He’s left you access to what you begged for. Your work begins again taking in more of his shaft. You move your hand at the base to the rhythm of your mouth. Niall moans in appreciation and lowers you onto his mouth, licking greedily. You go faster, moaning around him, sending vibrations through him. He repeats with his moan into you. You remove your mouth and steadily pump up and down.

“You want to know what really makes me cum, Niall?” you ask and a muffled affirmation moan is all he can manage. 

“The very idea that I could make you this hard. That I can take ahold of you. That I get to taste your cock. Hearing you groan. That made me cum.” You answer. Licking a stripe down his shaft to his balls and taking them in your mouth, maintaining the steady stroke. 

“Please, will you cum? I want it.” This is an out of body experience. Who is this sex goddess saying these sexy sexy things?!

He takes his mouth off of you to ask, “Where?” 

“For the good boy with my cunt in his mouth? Anywhere he wants.” Before he can answer you, his abdomen tenses and the warm liquid spills on your hand. His breath is heavy. You lift yourself off his face so he can see you licking your hand clean. His pure blue eyes widen with satisfaction. 

You crawl up and put your head on his chest. You can still hear his heart coming down. Both entirely exposed, he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer. 

“Well, I’m fucking starving.” He says with a weak laugh.

“Oh my God, we never ate.” You remember how the evening started at the planetarium.

“Speak for yourself.” He winks. “Besides, I can’t move.”

“You?! I’m pretty sure you ate my vagina off.” Oh Jesus, Why do you open your mouth if you’re just going to say the dumbest words—

“Yeah… and I’m gonna do it again. Just… give me a minute.” He is falling asleep, his skin warming you completely.


	12. P A R T    T W E L V E

P A R T T W E L V E   
You aren’t a late riser. Not normally, but apparently you’ve slept in. Because when you crack open your eyes you realize, you’re by yourself. A silk robe has replaced the warmth of a snuggle and noticeably covered how naked you fell asleep. ‘Earth tones.’ Niall. Your heart panics for a second. Where did you leave your phone; you’re probably late for work. Anthea is going to think you’ve died. Or worse, Anthea is going to think you’ve been doing what you’ve been doing. You slip into the robe, navy with an embroidered NH over the pocket in gold. ‘Is he fucking kidding?’ You laugh to yourself. This robe is like what a child thinks being rich is like.   
You head down the same stairs he led you up the night before.   
“Marco!”  
“Polo,” he answers from some space downstairs.   
“Marco,” you say, slightly more impatient.   
“The kitchen,” he answers again.  
“Should I pop the coordinates into google maps or?” You keep peeking around corners.   
Niall, in the boxers that match the robe you’re wearing and his glasses finds you in what incidentally is the “second parlor.”   
“That looks a lot better on you,” he admits, playing with the robe’s belt. He leans down and sweetly places a kiss on your forehead.  
“Have you seen my phone?”   
“Oh yeah. You don’t remember? Sometime around 5, you told me to turn off the alarm. Ungodly hour that is.” He brings you to the kitchen and points at the counter where your phone is charging. “It was low on battery.”   
You press your thumb down to unlock, and there is a text from Anthea.   
No matter what is happening tonight, you need tomorrow off. I rescheduled your meetings. xx Anthea  
“My assistant deserves a raise. I have the day off.” You smile and something catches in your nose. “Is that... bacon?”   
“I did say I was starving.” He shrugs. “I tried to keep it warm as long as possible. I just didn’t want to wake you.”  
“I normally don’t sleep so late.”  
“Yeah well someone must’ve really exhausted you. You were spent.” He hands you a plate and gently kisses your cheek. He pats your bum when he passes you, “C’mon, sit with me over here.”   
You nearly sink to the floor when you sit on the couch it’s so comfortable. It’s cliché, but it feels like a cloud. Niall pulls you to his chest.   
“Is that you? Is that your robe?” You begin smelling the air. You send your nose into his neck. “Oh my God, that’s you. How do you smell so good?”  
“I showered?”   
“No, no. This is like impossibly good. What is that?” You’re almost accusing him.  
“I put on cologne? You’re pretty easy to please.” He laughs his hands trailing up your leg, playing with the hem of the navy silk.   
Your phone rings, surprising both of you. You look down at the screen, and your heart sinks. It’s that elevator stomach dropping feeling, and it’s not fun or exciting. It feels as though the wire snapped, and you’re plummeting towards the ground. The number isn’t saved, but you know it by heart.  
Harry.   
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” You stay silent, and Niall’s eyes change. “Go on, answer it.” There’s defeat in his voice.   
“Hello?”   
“I know you’re home. Your car’s in the garage. The doorman told me. I’ve been knocking for 20 minutes.” Harry’s voice, normally laughing and light was desperate and apologetic.   
“I— I’m not home.” You look up at Niall. He stands and walks away, off to another room you’ll probably never find in his house.  
“Are you ok? Your car is here.” Harry inquires with concern.  
“Yes, I’m ok.”  
“Where are you?”  
“Not home.” You touch your fingers to the embroidery on the robe.   
The wheels start turning on Harry’s end. “Oh, how bad is my timing?”  
“What do you mean?”   
“You’ve found someone else, and I’ve broke it off with Camille to beg you to let me take you out properly.” You can only hear his voice, but you know exactly what his emerald eyes are doing. You can see his hand nervously fingering through his soft curls. His rings peeking through the strands.   
“Harry, I don’t know what... very bad. Your timing is very bad.”   
“I shouldn’t have treated you so unfairly. I think we‘re good together. I think I’ll never forget the first night I kissed you. I think you’re smart and beautiful and funny and kind. I think you should let me try to take you out. But what do you think?”   
Silence. What do you think?   
Finally and answer escapes, you, the queen of bad decisions manage a shy, “ok.”   
“Tomorrow. 8. I’m going to make this up to you.”   
You end the call. Niall comes back in, noticeably shaken. He knew who it was and what you said.  
“So that’s just it then? Were you ever going to say no if he asked?”  
“If I say no today, he’ll ask again tomorrow and the next day until I said yes. If I say yes now, maybe tomorrow when I say no he’ll accept that answer.” Your reasoning doesn’t even quite make sense to you.  
“Do you even hear yourself? As if you’re not going to — I know him. The thought of you and him and you— you cried! In my bed. You didn’t want me to be a rebound. I guess I can’t be if you never stop fucking him.” He takes a breath. “I know what happened between us was different. It felt different. You can’t deny that. But right now, this, this, girls choosing him over me, is the most familiar feeling. I’ve seen their faces light up when he gives them the slightest attention.” Tears begin to develop in his eyes. You take his hands in yours.  
“Niall. This was different. This is different. Why don’t you tell me how you feel about me instead of how you feel about Harry?”   
“I was in love with you when I was 16, and I fell in love again—“  
“Last night?” You ask, skeptical he may have confused lust and love.  
“No, I fell in love with you this morning. I woke up next to you, and I wanted to wake up next to you tomorrow. And I didn’t know what to do with that feeling so I made you bacon.” He smiles, wiping away tears.  
You laugh. “I didn’t even get to eat your love bacon.”   
“Please don’t go,” he squeezes you into a tight embrace.   
“We both know I’m going to have to address the Gucci elephant in the room sometime. It may as well be tomorrow.”   
“So soon. But you’re mine today?”  
“Yes, today.” You hide your face in his chest, unsure of Harry and your feelings and what tomorrow will really bring for this sweet man holding you close to his impossible scent.


	13. P A R T    T H I R T E E N

P A R T T H I R T E E N 

You check the time on your phone, and lock it. And then again because you forgot to see what time it was. You’re ready early. First date jitters, you suppose. Hard to get them when you’ve already seen the business end of your first date’s genitals, but you’re a real gold medalist when it comes to anxiety based events. What do you wear on a first date with the best dressed man on the planet?

Everything looks perfect on Harry. Maybe that little confidence that helped you select your outfit is there because you know what he looks best in: nothing at all. For your date with Niall, you wore the sexiest dress you owned. For your date with Harry, the most you dress you own. It’s simple, but it fits like a glove. You feel like a self-actualized goddess in this dress in hopes that you are one. 

There is a polite knock at the door of your flat. Though you feel that your feet are glued to the ground, you make it to the doorknob and turn. 

There are no words for seeing this man’s face up close. His messy brown curls crowning him in all his glory. The ink that marks his flesh peeking past his shirt sleeve and collar. His green eyes sparkling scorching a hole through you. 

“You look so beautiful.” He speaks quietly and with such earnest. 

“Thank you, Harry.” The exchange feels as though he’s about to put a corsage on you for a school dance. It’s sweet.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm for you the hook into mimicking a cartoon prince or some chivalrous lover in a storybook to draw a giggle from you. 

“We shall.” You hook your arm in his. He quickly takes your hooked hand and presses his lips in a kiss on it. He modifies you so you’re holding hands— fingers intertwined. 

In the elevator you try to fill the silence. “You didn’t tell me where we’re going, though.” 

He smirks. “Well, I can’t just take you anywhere, given what a tabloid draw you are at the moment.” 

He’s joking, but it is a bitter reminder. You haven’t checked after you made your accounts private what they were saying about you. 

“I’m sorry. It was only a bad joke.” He squeezes your hand. The elevator doors open to the Lobby of your building. You head toward the main doors, and Harry pulls you back and into him.

“We can’t go that way. I know a secret way.” He rushes you around the front desk into the employee lounge behind it, all while giving your doorman a little nod. There is another way out, no one is lurking there to get a photo of you two. 

Harry ushers you into a car with tinted windows. “How did you know that?” 

“If you don’t know how to protect people you care about, what kind of person are you?” Harry answers matter-of-factly. 

“So you called ahead?” 

“I called ahead.” He laughs. 

The engine starts. You don’t know much about cars, but this car looks very fancy. You touch your fingers over a triton logo on the interior. 

“It’s a Maserati.” He puts the car in reverse. It sounds like some sort of domesticated jungle cat. It sounds sexy.

“Like from the Britney Spears song?” It’s the only place you’ve ever heard the brand before. He laughs out loud. The sound filling the car and bringing a huge smile to your face.

“The very same.” When he pulls around the corner you can see the paparazzi waiting. “Were they here when you got home from... when you got home yesterday.” His cheeks flush and his knuckles are noticeably white on the steering wheel.

“There were way less. I had Anthea call them and tell them I was somewhere else. But I guess it’s Saturday night so they expect the town trollop to be out breaking hearts and destroying careers.” Your eyes roll. 

“You must know I never wanted them to do this to you.” He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on your knee, rubbing a tiny circle with his thumb. You place your hand over top of his, encouraging him to stay.

“I know.” You sigh, and he brightens in turn. Taking your hand and again placing a kiss on it. You know this is a first date, but can’t we skip to whatever number date it is where he pulls over and makes out with you? 

“So. I have a few rules for our date.” He sees your eyebrow cock, and he clarifies, “They’re just a set of personal rules I made for myself. I thought I might share them with you.” 

“Ok, shoot.” 

“First rule is no sex.” 

“No sex. Ok. Wait why no sex?” You ask indignantly. 

“We know each other in that way. I want to know different things about you.”

“Ok, like what?” There may be a touch of impatience in your tone.

“Everything. I want to know everything about you.” Harry chuckles. “Trust me, rule one is the hardest rule.”

“Ok, rule one. No sex. Fine. What’s rule two?”

“Rule two: because I want to know everything about you, whole truths must be told. I don’t care if it’s messy. I care that it’s honest.” 

“That’s fair. Fine. Rule two: whole truth so help me God. Any others?”

“Yes. Rule three: don’t break rule one no matter how fucking gorgeous you look tonight.” His dimples appear on both sides of his sly smile. “I did say rule one Is the hardest rule after all.” 

He parks the car as these last words exit his perfect fucking mouth with his perfect fucking voice. You’re positive your knees will give out if you stand. He rushes around to your side of the car to get your door. He doesn’t have to rush your legs are jelly, your stomach is jelly, you are jelly. 

You are so in tune with Harry’s movements, you didn’t notice where you are. A mansion. An old one. You’ve been here before when you first moved to London. 

“Osterley Park!” You blurt out. It is a National Trust house. You had gotten the tour (and pretended to be the lady of the house in your head). “Is there a party here or—“

“No, we’re the party.” 

These boys love their last minute rentals, you think as he takes your hand leading you to the entrance. 

“Right this way, Miss.” he allows you to go first. You stand in the foyer. The staircase in front of you, hundreds of years old. You feel like this is important. Money isn’t what is important to Harry because he has an excess of it. But right now your worn down heels are standing on the grounds of Ladies and Lords. 

“Hungry?” He scoops his hand around your waist bringing you closer. 

“For what?” You reply mischievously. 

“Is it against the rules to kiss you?” He dips his head so his face is warming your neck. He inhales deeply and let’s out an ‘ah’ noise at the smell of your perfume. 

“They’re your rules, Harry. Personally, I’ve always been a bit of a rebel with regard to rules.” You run a finger along the exposed skin of his chest. The black button up he is wearing shows just the little tips of the sparrows and none of the butterfly but your finger dips down to trace it anyway. 

“That’s not fair.” He groans.

“What isn’t?” You ask, feigning innocence. 

“This is in direct violation of rules one and three.” He rubs his hands up and down your torso. 

“Yeah, but rule two, whole truth,” you whisper, “once you ask me all your questions, we may just have to turn into a couple of rule breakers.” 

“My questions!” He beams. He breaks the connection and laces his fingers with yours. “You almost made me forget.” 

There is a dining table set for two. Red wine in a decanter. But there’s something strange about the plates.

“It’s only sweets.” You question with a smile. 

“That’s the best bit.” He leads you to your chair. The gold details of the trim in the room and light by flickers of candles and not much else. 

Harry’s eyes have never looked so clear. He is beaming he’s so excited like a child who just got a puppy. This is quite a different energy than you’re used to, but it’s contagious. 

“Vanilla or chocolate?” He asks with his fork at the ready. 

“Umm chocolate.” He breaks off a piece of a cake and brings the fork to your mouth. You’ve haven’t been fed by anyone since you’re guessing infancy, so you feel a little strange. “I’m not a baby.” You squish your nose up.

“Indulge me. I just want to see something.” You open to allow the fork access. You close your eyes and wrap your mouth around what is most breathtaking morsel of food you’ve ever eaten. The chocolate is rich but not too dense. There are notes of bitterness matched perfectly with sweet. You let out a tiny little appreciative moan and immediately cover your mouth in embarrassment. You open your eyes, and they’re met with those gem toned green ones staring with his mouth agape. 

He takes his thumb and brushes the side of your mouth, you must’ve gathered a little chocolate there. He wipes and stills his thumb right in front of your face. It’s clear, he wants you to clean it. Using both hands you take his into yours, holding your eyes to his and sucking gently at the pad of his thumb. 

“You try.” You reach for the fork and stab a piece of the cake. By the time you bring the fork to his mouth, his tongue is rolled out like a red carpet, ready to receive his bite. He takes the cake with enthusiasm. 

“I think I might have to establish some rules with this cake.” He takes the fork from your hand and takes a much bigger bite. His smile taking up so much of his beautiful face. 

“Your questions, Harry. I’m assuming. Chocolate or vanilla was top of the list.” There is a tea tray of macarons, and you snatch a pink one. 

“Yes. Questions.” He reaches towards a mason jar full of strips of paper you hadn’t noticed. “I wrote them down so I wouldn’t forget.” The jar is full, bursting with strips of paper. He really wants to know that much? 

“Are we going to do this all in one go? I’m going to need more wine.” 

“I’d like to know the answer to all of them, yes.” He says plainly. “Question 1. Chosen by fate.” He says as he pulls one strip out. “Do you believe in horoscopes?” 

“I believe in star signs. Like when and where people are born affect who they become. But I don’t necessary believe cosmo telling me to get out there today because mercury is in whoever’s house.” 

“That was an easy one.” He pouts. He pulls another. “How old were you when you had your first kiss?” 

“14? Maybe 15. Hard to remember. I’d had just a long list of kisses since then.” You tease. “Am I not allowed to ask you the questions back?” 

“No. This is your interview, miss. Please stay on topic.” He straightens his shoulders and imitates a stern interviewer. He pulls another. “What are your parents like?” 

“Um, they’re pretty standard. They got married and gave birth to me. They aren’t together anymore, though. They got divorced when I was 19. Actually pretty much right before I got the job where you first met me.” 

“Do you see them often?” 

“Is that on there?” You try to peek at the paper. “I don’t. Once I got my working visas here, I don’t see them at all really. I call them, like once a week or so.” 

“Do you miss them?” 

“Um, in a way, yeah. I miss the parents I had when I was growing up. But they aren’t those people anymore anyway. And I’m not a kid anymore either. But I think we’re fine.”

“You haven’t visited them?” 

“Probably around 4 years ago. I visited home. I like it better here. My life is here now. My friends are here. My job is here.” 

“Ok. Next question. Have you ever been in love?” 

“Yes.” You leave it at that, and he accepts.

“What’s your favorite movie?” 

“Little Miss Sunshine, I suppose.” 

“Ok. Next. When was the last time you felt truly happy?” 

Your smile, previously plastered on your face by just his proximity, dissolves in an instant. You know the answer, but you can’t very well tell him the moment you felt happy was the moment before he called and interrupted your lazy morning with Niall. So you lie. “I feel truly happy right now.” 

He scrunches his brows in concern. “No. That’s not it. That’s not the whole truth.” 

“Harry, why did you call me?“ 

“What do you mean why I wanted to see you.” 

“No. Why did you break up with Camille? Why did all of this happen? All of a sudden you want to talk about my parents? I can’t think of a single reason why you’d want any of that except that you saw me kiss someone else. And that drove you a little crazy.” Your heart is racing. You don’t know why you snapped like that. Maybe it was the reminder of Niall. Crying in your arms about being chosen second for a man who chose you second.

“Well maybe it did upset me! Maybe it made me realize that what I was doing to both of you was wrong!” You’ve never heard him raise his voice before. It’s a little frightening. “Maybe it made me realize that I was in love with you and I didn’t want to see you with anyone else because I can’t imagine you being with anyone else right now! The same way I can’t imagine being with anyone else right now.” Your jaw drops. Did he just say he was in love with you? It was just sex. It was supposed to be just sex.


	14. P A R T    F O U R T E E N

P A R T F O U R T E E N

Four Days Ago

“Brother,” Harry aggressively puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “A word.” 

“Hey, Harry, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Nor I you,” he responds, in a monotone, staring at you while saying the words and whisking Niall away.

“What’s up, mate? Long time.” Niall hugs Harry. Harry is as stiff as a board, filled to the brim with the kind of jealous anger he has never experienced before. 

“Have you fucked her?” Harry tries to control his breathing, but he can’t. Tears are beginning to well.

“What? Just then?” Niall jokes. “Sorry. Just trying to get you to relax. No, Harry. I saw her for the first time in ages. She asked me to kiss her. So I kissed her. So what? You two? She wasn’t just messing when she said you got to her first?”

“We’ve been sleeping together for months. But I think I may really have feelings for her. I think I love her and—“

“And the pretty blonde you showed up with?” 

“What? Oh. I forgot. Fuck. I’m just fucking up all over tonight.” Harry runs his digits through the curls on his head. “Niall, I’m sorry I grabbed you that way. I just — I didn’t know. I know now.”

“You love her?” 

“Very much.” His green eyes hit the floor in sadness.

“We’ve all got shit luck then I’d say.” Niall offers him a smile.

Tonight:

“You’re in love with me?! Harry you called me to break it off with me the day after the party.” 

“You broke it off with me. I called to see if you were ok.” He defends himself. His anger melting into defeat. “And the next time I called you...”

“I was at Niall’s.” You finish. 

“You were where?” His face goes entirely flush. His chest is rising rapidly. You just realized, you hadn’t ever said that’s who you were with. Is he crying? 

“Harry? Harry are you ok?” You reach out to grab his face; it’s on fire. “Harry?” 

“I don’t have a right to ask, but was that your first time with him?” 

“He sent flowers the day after the party. He asked me to dinner.” You have never held Harry this way before. You didn’t know if you believed him before, but now, he’s physically sick over you being with Niall. 

“And the last time you were truly happy? Were you thinking with him?” 

“Yes.” He inhales deeply at your answer. “Harry, I didn’t know you had feelings for me. I thought I embarrassed you and me at that party. I asked him to kiss me in hopes you’d be jealous and now, ask me if I would do it again.” 

“Would you do it again?” 

“Would you ever have realized you had feelings for me if I didn’t?” 

“I was trying to give you time to come around. I wasn’t calling to break it off with you. I was calling to tell you. My timing really is bad.” He laughs gently at his own circumstance.

“How bad can it be really? I’m still here. Full of the best god damn chocolate cake I’ve ever had.” You wipe at his face. “With the guy I broke up with because I had feelings for him.” His face relaxes under your touch. 

“You for me?” He doesn’t bother completing sentences because she knew what he was confirming. 

“Oh yeah. Big time.” 

“I just— why didn’t he say — at the party. I told him I was in love with you. He could’ve told me he was interested in you. I know him and I don’t see each other so often but—“ Harry scrunches his eyebrows trying to string his thoughts together. 

A wave of nausea hits you. Niall knew. Was everything else a lie too? 

“Hey, hey.” Harry cups your face now, realizing how distraught you really were. 

“He said he was in love with me.” You spit out, trying to explain yourself. “Why would he do that? You called me, and then he said...” he only said it after Harry called. “I think I should go, maybe. Would you take me home? I’m sorry to have ruined your evening. I think I should go. I think—“ Harry pulls your head to his chest. His scent is warm and musky and you inhale so hard his body may as well be an inhaler. 

“Of course. Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you.” He’s stroking your face, paying no mind to the tears or the snot that has collected on it. 

Your phone bings loudly. You always keep it on silent, but when Anthea has an emergency she goes into your iCloud for a find my phone option to get your attention. You panic. What now? What could possibly be?

Anthea sent you the screenshot knowing you turned off your notifications with this whole disaster. It’s from Niall’s instagram. It’s a woman’s shoulder, bare, with his silk robe draped over it, placed so the NH could be seen. And it would be completely inconspicuous except that he’s tagged you. The caption reads one word:

Mine.


	15. P A R T    F I F T E E N

P A R T F I F T E E N 

You nearly choke on your own sobs you’re so enraged. How could he do this?! You are a grown woman. You belong to no one. Let alone some guy who you slept with once and shouldn’t have even gone out with in the first place. 

Anthea sends you three more pictures. It’s from his story. You in the robe in his house. How did he pull these? Security footage? Does he have a camera in his bedroom, too?

She texts you: 

He deleted them five minutes after posting. 

You turn your phone around to Harry in defeat. It’s clear from his expression that he is pained by you feeling this violated. 

“By then, every fan who has his notifications on have already saved them.” He confirms your thoughts aloud. 

Harry pulls you into his lap and buries you in his chest, trying to keep you from heaving so hard. 

You pull your head back, “your shirt.” You pull at his buttons to reveal how you’ve wet it with your tears. 

“Shh. It’s just a shirt. C’mere. Shhh.” He nestles your head back to his chest and is rocking you and rubbing his hands up and down your back and arms. 

Something catches his eye and he halts immediately. You look up to see your phone screen has illuminated again. This time, a phone call. Harry catches your gaze in his. Another unsaved number. 

You don’t want to save their numbers. In case of a hack or a leak or something. It was also your way of twisting what was true. If you never save their numbers, it doesn’t hurt to delete them. 

You nod, confirming who the call is from: Niall. 

“Do you want me to answer?” He asks tracing my soaked cheek with his finger gently. 

“No. It should be me.” You straighten up, and swipe. You stand even though you can barely manage it. 

“You have some fucking nerve.” No one would know you’ve been crying you’ve changed your tone so quickly. 

“Listen I know i should’ve explained before—“ he sounds nervous and guilty. 

“Explained before what?! I am not a fucking fire hydrant, Niall. You can’t expect to piss all over me and mark me as your own!” 

“That’s not what I was doing, pet. Believe me.” There is some sort of sad truth in his voice. Maybe you just want it to be there.

“Believe you! Believe you? I will never trust you again, and I was a fucking idiot to trust you the first time! I can’t believe I ever thought you were telling me the truth.” 

“Please, please. I did it for you.”

“Oh gee wonderful maybe you can mail the condom that was use when I lost my virginity to my parents, too! For me! Un-fucking-believable!” Your voice, you realize, is carrying in the hallowed our rooms of this historic mansion. 

“I know you’re upset. I knew I should’ve told you before, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought I’d be able to control the reaction. I didn’t —“

“You didn’t what?” There is something threatening in your voice even you can’t recognize. 

“If I posted them and deleted them. I thought the paps would — I wasn’t completely honest with you about seeing Harry. He told me that he...” Niall’s voice cracks on the other end. 

“Yes, I know.” You finally look up at Harry who is practically ready to lunge at you with concern. His eyebrows squinting hard causing the line in between them to deepen. You hold a hand out to stay him. 

“So he’s told you then. I promise you what I did, I did for you. I know it doesn’t seem like it. I know I should’ve talked to you before. But I’m trying now.” The desperation in his voice is calming you slightly. 

“So try.” It’s all you can manage to whisper. 

“I need to see you. Please. I can explain in person better.” 

“I’m not coming alone.” You glance up at Harry, whose posture has slackened since your change in tone. 

“Bring him along. He should know, too. I don’t care if you bring the Prince of Saturn. I need to see you. I promise I fucked it up but my intentions were nothing but good. I didn’t lie. I meant what I said yesterday.” You sense some relief on Niall’s end of the phone and not much on your end. 

Harry sweeps in when you hang up. “We don’t have to go. You don’t owe him anything.” 

“I want to know why.” It comes out weak and small. The coarse exterior you put on for Niall completely melted under Harry’s touch. “I just want to know why.”


	16. P A R T  S I X T E E N

P A R T S I X T E E N 

Niall texts you:

My house is swarmed. I’ll meet you and him at yours. 

“Remember when you thought the hardest thing about our date was just not to fuck me?” You laugh pathetically sliding the text for Harry to read. 

“It’s second hardest thing. First is definitely me not breaking Niall’s nose.” Even though he’s threatening, he’s so calm. “I can’t blame him though, loving you so quickly. I’m the only bloody idiot on this island that could have possibly taken months to do it.” He kisses your hand, almost reverently, as if he’s apologizing for some wrongdoing. 

He focuses all his attention on you, having put you back in his lap to hold you tightly. Staring even, trying to read your face. 

“If he knew how much he hurt you, I don’t think he would have called so easily.” Your chin is between his fingers, tilting you upwards. “I’d never be able to live with myself knowing I had even a little bit to do with what he did.” 

“Harry, why did you have to wait so long?” You’re wincing, an outward expression of your internal pain. 

“I thought I was out of line. We agreed to what we agreed to. Do you, do you remember the night we first kissed?” Harry runs his finger against your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you kiss gently against his finger. 

“You laughed against my lips. I’ve never been with such a happy kisser.” 

“We should probably head out,” you begin to extract yourself from Harry’s lap beneath his strong hands. 

“Hey,” he holds you against him, “what did I say?” 

“We should just go.” You stand and brush the ends of your skirt, wiping under your eyes to ensure the traces of mascara have been banished. “Harry?” He hasn’t stood up after you. 

“I’m not in any rush for you to go back to him.” 

“The longer we stay, the harder it will be for either of us to face reality.” You grab up your purse, tucking your phone inside it. 

“I’m not sure I know what that means. Hey.” He stands and pulls your hand a little to keep you from walking away. 

“Do you know why I laughed Harry? Sure, I was happy to be kissing you. But I laughed because the whole thing was absurd.”

“Absurd?” 

“Yeah, look at you. Your face and your hands and your hair and your arms and your tattoos and your eyes and your buckets of money. You’re unreal. You’re fantasy. It’s absurd that I got to press my lips on your face. It’s absurd that i got to have sex with you for this long. It’s really absurd for you to break up with a literal lingerie model to ask me about my divorced parents while I cry over another guy. It feels unreal. It feels like you’re going to wake up and figure out—“ you can feel the tears streaming and you know they shouldn’t be. You know you shouldn’t say what you’re about to say. “Figure out what a waste of time I am. So I have to laugh while I can, Harry. Because the clock is ticking.”


	17. P A R T S E V E N T E E N

P A R T S E V E N T E E N 

“Let’s just go then.” He sighs, deflating. His eyes don’t want to stare anymore, they hit the ground and don’t look up again. That’s it, good for you. You broke him. A perfectly good rockstar. This is why we can’t have nice things.

The car ride is silent save for the purring engine. His knuckles tight around the steering wheel. Your chest is even tighter. Did you mean what you said? Yes. Well, sort of yes. Mostly yes. 

He pulls you guys in the way you left, but you couldn’t help but notice that there weren’t any photographers out front anyway. Weird. 

Your phone rings, and you answer with the smallest hello you can manage. It’s the first sound you’ve made in twenty minutes or thirty years, who can tell?

“They followed me, so I won’t stop at yours until you and Harry are inside.” 

You lean the phone off of your mouth and repeat, “he says—“

“I heard.” Was he scowling that much the whole time? You hadn’t looked at him at all. 

“We just got here, so it shouldn’t be another five minutes.” You answer Niall. “I’ll tell the doorman to send you up.” 

You hang up and swing the car door open. You don’t wait for Harry to put a protective hand at your back or open the door as you assume he might’ve done if you hadn’t opened your stupid mouth and told him he was ridiculous. 

He follows you, it seems like he may have slammed the door a little harder than necessary. You don’t turn around to look.

You stop in the lobby and inform the doorman Niall is coming, send him right up. No photographers are allowed in the lobby or he should call the police. 

You ring the elevator, Harry follows you in. The air couldn’t be more different than your trip down earlier. No laughs, no jokes, no flirting. Just you, bubbling over with shame because he’s standing there so obviously hurt. He’s a person. You did the exact thing you know he hates: treated him like a token of idolatry. 

“Harry.” Your voice is hushed. 

“No,” he clears his throat and keeps his eyes on the numbers going up. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.” 

“But you meant them? You think that?” 

“What? That you’re over the top perfect? Yeah. Kind of hard not to think that.” Wow would you look at the time or your shoes or the floor or anything but those green eyes. 

“No. Not me. You. What you think of you. You think the idea that I love you is absurd.” 

You stop breathing for a second. You didn’t offend him by calling him perfect. 

“Yes.” The doors open and hush the conversation. You both walk to your apartment door. Your fingers are shaking too much to work the key. His hand meets yours and takes the key for you. The door opens. 

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” He is suddenly very close to you with his middle presses up against your back. “Because I do love you.” 

“If you’re trying to seduce me, it will 100% work. But if you want me to believe that you could love me you should try something else.” 

“Like a romantic evening where i try to get to know you without the prospect of sex?” 

Fuck. He’s got you there. You turn to face him and like a undertow you’re being pulled in dangerously close. His face has softened since the elevator. You lean into him further, connecting your hand to his cheek so lightly you can tell you tickled him. He presses a kiss into your wrist. Before you can meet his lips, a knock at the door makes you jump. 

“I should get that.” You say, hypnotized by Harry’s gemstone eyes. 

“I’m not the only one with bad timing.” He smiles finally, and you feel a weight lifted off of you. Ok. One problem down. Now to address the other multimillionaire. You know the one who released photos of you half naked. Great. You bring Harry to the door with you because no way in Hell are you doing this alone.


	18. Chapter 18

P A R T E I G H T E E N 

Neither puppy dog nor wolf Niall are there to greet you as you open the door. He’s hunched a bit, and his lip is cut and bleeding. 

“What happened?!” You usher him in. Harry moves himself away from you two. 

“I broke a camera.” He sits in your kitchen and you quickly wet a paper towel for him. 

“With your face?!” You’ve found a dish towel to put some ice in. 

“Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.” You tilt his chin back to be sure he’s wiped the blood clean. You hand him the towel of ice. “They were saying things they shouldn’t have said. They just kept saying your name, and I couldn’t do nothing.”

“It’s reassuring to know, Niall, that you’ve made a series of fucking bad decisions today. Don’t think I forgot because your face is bloody.” You turn to Harry, who is really quite farther than you’d like. “Harry, please can you go into my bathroom and in the cabinet there is witch hazel.” He nods and scurries to your bathroom. You call out after him, “Harry! Cotton, too! Under the sink.” 

Harry returns with your requests. He puts them on the counter and skulks off to his corner again. You soak a piece of cotton in the witch hazel. 

“Wish I could say I’m not going to enjoy this.” You move Niall’s hand holding the ice. You touch the cotton to his lip and he inhales sharply. His eyes well. Was it the sting or the photos?

“I’m sorry.” Niall babbles on, it was clearly both causing the tears. “I thought I was doing something nice by doing something not nice. I shouldn’t known it wouldn’t work because I’ve always been so fucking thick. Especially when it comes to you.” 

“Ok. So explain. You have exactly one chance to explain.” You stand up because you can’t look at him crying and not immediately forget how wronged you are. 

“I know how it looks. Because you know how jealous I was of Harry. And Harry, you told me something real serious, and I got jealous then, too. But if Harry makes you happy, then be with Harry. If Pippa Middleton makes you happy, go be with her.” You smile. “But how could you know if Harry makes you happy if you’re chased down by photographers all night. Harry, mate, you’re far more interesting to the paps than me. So I thought I could use that. If the paps thought you were with me, they’d stop looking for you with Harry. And if I looked like the bad guy to the fans, posting them photos then when you choose Harry, they won’t be so mean to you. Calling you those names. I was trying to help the story.” His fingers go up and quote the story. Silence. Because it seems as though he did have a good reason. 

Harry shuffles and breaks the tension. “I think I’d maybe give you guys some time to talk.” He turns to you, and he gives you a sad, sweet smile before kissing your cheek. 

“Harry, I’m sorry, please, it’s me who should go.” Niall stands. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I’m stupid. Simple as that. I’m glad you listened to me, though. Both of you.” 

Both of them are headed for the door, “Wait! I swear to God if either of open that door I will ... I will... fuck Liam Payne in front of you. Now wait.” You earn a smile from both of them. 

“You’re both going to leave without me saying goodbye?” You can hear your voice crack. 

“It’s not goodbye. Just see you in a bit.” Harry puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder, moving his thumb to comfort you. 

“It’s goodbye if I say it’s goodbye, though right? Because I believe you. I believe you both. And truthfully, nothing like this has happened to me before. And it makes me think... I can’t get between you two. You’re basically brothers. And I’ve seen that affection sort of die down. I don’t want that. So if I’m the reason that’s happening right now then I’m taking myself out of the equation. I choose you guys being close. I choose you two being happy, being friends again.”


	19. Chapter 19

P A R T N I N E T E E N 

Four Months Later: 

You walked home from the office, having moved house after the whole thing. You couldn’t help but be haunted by Harry being uncharacteristically sheepish or Niall’s bleeding smile. 

There is a tiny package on your doorstep. 

Your shopping habits get a little bad. Particularly when you crack open a bottle of wine and start scrolling through the opinions of you online. (They’re still trying to make you into some home wrecking harlot.) So maybe it’s just a new lipstick or something.

You walk in and hear a tiny meow. “Hey buddy.” You pet his little head and drop your keys off. “Let’s see what we ordered, shall we?” 

With a butter knife you slip past the tape. It’s a single daisy in a clear case. And a long envelope. You slide the knife into the side to open it.

One more chance.

It’s two plane tickets to your hometown. Just then, your phone rings. You didn’t save the number, but you know exactly who it is.


End file.
